


Innocent When You Dream

by CanadianGarrison



Series: The Long Way Home [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But Read it anyways really it's okay trust me, Fantasizing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Slutamis, Somnophilia, Songfic, Tom Waits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8069194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianGarrison/pseuds/CanadianGarrison
Summary: Later that same night, Porthos and Aramis talk about Athos and d'Artagnan, and Porthos thinks about all the ways d'Artagnan might become a part of their lives. All the sticky, sticky ways.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my series "The Long Way Home", you don't *have* to read them in order but it would probably help. 
> 
> Each story comes with an associated Tom Waits song. That's right bitches, songfic! I know, I don't always listen to the songs when other people post songfic, but please, please listen to the song I link when you read each story? I love Tom Waits and want to share him with you, and I think hearing the song will add to the experience.
> 
> The song for this story is "Innocent When You Dream (78)" which you can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6KkJ6-Ecxw). I would love to hear what you think about the song, Tom is my favourite musician.
> 
> Many thanks to my #smuttyladies and azile_teacup for audiencing and editing. All mistakes are my own, and sadly I do not own the characters.

“I don't think he was expecting me to be naked.”

They were in bed, in their big room in the attic. Aramis was still naked, and lay wrapped around Porthos like they had been separated for weeks, rather than the few hours that Porthos had spent watching Bonacieux and then writing up his notes at the office.

“Well, that's because he doesn't know you,” Porthos said. “If he stays, he'll get used to it.”

“Used to it?” Aramis pulled back to stare at Porthos, bracing himself with his hands on Porthos's strong shoulders, affront and amusement both showing in his eyes. “Porthos! If that fine young thing stays, I would hope he gets a great deal more than _used to_ my naked body.”

Porthos chuckled, sliding his hand up and down Aramis's back, enjoying his smooth, warm skin and the feeling of Aramis's dick laying thick and heavy, pressed against Porthos's thigh. He tilted his face up for a kiss, then pulled Aramis until he was lying on top of him again.  

“Can’t say I disagree.” Porthos's voice was slow, thoughtful. “I got home so late, only had a few minutes to chat before we went to bed, but I want to get to know him better. Athos hasn't taken to someone like that since…” He trailed off, knowing Aramis would make the connection to Athos's ex.

“Well, d'Artagnan seems nothing like her,” Aramis said decisively. “He's friendly, for one thing.” Porthos snorted but didn't say anything. “And he doesn’t seem the type to be interested in high society or fancy wine. Also he a guy, can’t forget that”.

“As if I could,” Porthos answered. “Athos has spent long enough weighted down by that locket and his memories. He deserves for something nice to happen to him.”

“To all of us, Porthos. D'Artagnan is very nice, and if there's any justice in the world, he's happening to all of us.”

“Go to sleep, Aramis.”

“I love you, Porthos.”

“Love you too, ‘Mis.”

* * *

 

Porthos couldn't sleep. Aramis drifted off right away, as usual, but when he worked late Porthos always needed a bit more quiet time or an orgasm before he could settle down.

D'Artagnan was interesting, and not just because of what he could mean for Athos. He was friendly, like Aramis said, and clearly seeking something. People didn't usually move to a new country without any plans for what to do when they got there… Was he running towards something, or away from it? He reminded Porthos a bit of Charon, always searching but never finding, never satisfied.

D'Artagnan was hot, too – Aramis definitely had good taste in men. He’d look so good laid out in their bed, dark skin against Porthos's favourite grey-blue sheets, lost to pleasure as Aramis licked him, bit him, sucked his cock into the skilled and welcoming throat Porthos knew so well. What would d'Artagnan sound like? Was he a moaner, a shouter? Maybe he'd talk, give Aramis a run for his money, spur him to new heights of creative filth.

Porthos shifted onto his back, letting the blanket pool between himself and Aramis, and slid his boxers off. It was dark and warm in their room, and with the streetlights shining in the window he could just see Aramis’s sleep-soft face, his relaxed body.

Wrapping one hand around his half-hard dick, Porthos let his eyes trail up and down Aramis's body as he imagined d'Artagnan doing the same with his mouth. Kissing Aramis's cheeks, his ear, that spot high on his throat where Athos always left bruises. D'Artagnan would bite his way down Aramis's throat, pausing to suck a mark on his collarbone before licking Aramis's nipples, left and then right, then back to left when he learned Aramis moaned louder for that one.

Porthos stroked a little faster, picturing D'Artagnan using his long, slim fingers on Aramis while sucking his dick. Was he even gay? Or bi? His mouth looked so welcoming, and his smile was so wide – it would be a real shame if he wasn't into sucking cock.

Aramis was so beautiful, so calm and open in his sleep; Porthos marvelled that they had found each other, that they worked so well as a team, even though they were different in so many ways. Where it counted, though, they were alike – both looking for love, ready to cherish a partner, more concerned with being happy than being rich or having a high-powered career.

As Porthos watched, Aramis rolled from his side onto his back, legs splaying apart unconsciously. He was so good, so giving, even in his sleep. Porthos considered leaning down to suck Aramis's soft cock, see how fast he'd get hard, but he'd had a long day, just wanted to get off and get to sleep. He ran a thumb over the tip of his cock, instead, swiping up the pre-come beading there, sucked it clean, then reached for the bottle of lube that lived on the bedside table. No need to do this dry, after all.

Slippery, now, Porthos squeezed his cock harder, stroking slowly but with a twist against the head, over and over. He pictured Aramis riding his cock, Athos kissing d'Artagnan while he pulled Aramis's hair. Porthos spanking Athos as Aramis fucked himself with their biggest toy, not allowed to come without permission. D'Artagnan sucking Athos, flailing and choking against the thickness in his throat while Aramis held his head down, easily ignoring d'Artagnan's struggles. The flurry of fantasies whirled through his mind, image after image, as Porthos brought himself closer to his own orgasm.

With his dry hand, Porthos cupped and squeezed his balls, tugging a little and feeling the rush all through him. Aramis loved sucking on Porthos's sac, loved how he couldn't quite get the whole thing in his mouth, and he hadn’t stopped trying, determined that one day he'd manage. Loved wriggling his tongue against that spot just behind Porthos's balls, and lower, working his way inside. Aramis was such a good little slut. Always ready, always working to make himself available to his lovers. It would be so good if d'Artagnan joined them, grew to be a part of their group; they needed someone with his youthful defiance, someone who didn't yet know he couldn't bend the world to his will. And his mouth, they definitely needed that.

Porthos stroked himself faster, tugging a bit harder, letting his hips rock into it. He pictured Aramis sitting naked at the breakfast table – as he usually was – under d'Artagnan's appraising gaze. Would Aramis hesitate if Porthos offered him up, as casually as he might offer milk to go with their cornflakes? Was d'Artagnan the type of man who wanted his cock sucked in the kitchen while his housemates – lovers – looked on?

He shivered, cock twitching in his grip. They had their share of sex with friends, Athos and others, and Porthos never tired of teaming up with Aramis to utterly ravish a lover. They encouraged each other to new heights, creative and sensual and sometimes just plain sticky, and Porthos never felt more accepted than when Aramis looked at him.

Aramis was still fast asleep, entirely unaware of how Porthos was watching him, thinking up new things to do with him… When Porthos realized he was dripping slick down to his own stomach he paused, gathering it in his sticky hand and adding a bit more lube for good measure. He rolled onto his side, facing Aramis, speeding up his strokes and hoping the motion didn't shake the bed enough to wake him up. How much could Aramis sleep through? Could Porthos go get d'Artagnan right now, show him Aramis all laid out and helpless, let d'Artagnan see what they had to offer?

Porthos shifted a bit, angled his cock towards Aramis's while he looked up at Aramis's innocent, dreaming face, and then he was coming, shuddering and twitching and spurting thick and sticky all over Aramis's soft dick. Some of the come dripped down onto his balls, and Aramis grunted a little in his sleep, shifted but didn’t wake.

With a satisfied sigh, Porthos rolled back to lie flat on the bed, tense muscles relaxing against the soft mattress. Then he got up, washed his hands in the en-suite, and grabbed his phone from the desk where it was charging. He took couple photos of his sleeping beauty, come-slick prick shining in the dim light from outside; it was obvious, unmistakable. Porthos sent the best picture to Athos, then got in bed and curled up against Aramis, finally sleepy.  

**Author's Note:**

> Some but not all of these stories will be smutty. I’m open to suggestions, if there are things you’d particularly love to see happen, just leave a comment or message me on Tumblr.


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